Chai
by Neferit
Summary: Whenever Jim fell into depresssion, he changed something about his body.


**A/N:** Written for a ST kink meme prompt: _Whenever Jim falls into a depression he feels the compulsive need to change something about his physical appearance. Dying his hair, buying coloured contacts, etc._

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, but a copy of _Maus_ and this piece of fanfiction.

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**Chai**

From what Leonard McCoy knew about Jim Kirk, the man didn't get "little sad" or "somehow happy".

Jim Kirk was man of extremes - he was either "fucking happy" or "deeply depressed". When he was in the "fucking happy" mode, he would get drunk, he would surprise people by doing something nice and unexpected, he would make the whole world know he. Is. Fucking. Happy.

Like that time when Bon... Leonard, damit! - had been feeling down, while Jim had been on the top of his fucking happy mode. He never learnt how he managed to do it – but somehow, Jim made such a good impression on Jocelyn and her new husband that she allowed Joanna to visit him in 'cisco that very day, and for the whole rest of the day.

But when Jim Kirk felt down, it was down to its fullest. You wouldn't recognize it on him - outside, he was just like always - witty remarks, spouting innuendos... all his annoying self.

Only his eyes showed that in truth he was sad; so sad that he had to force himself through everything he did, so sad that he changed something about his body, so sad that to feel anything other than the neverending sadness he would get into a fight.

The night when he would hit on Uhura in that bar in Riverside had been one of those days; he saw that Cupcake (Giotto, dammit!) was following her, so he stroke a conversation and hit on her long enough for someone else be bothered with a country hick hitting on one of the Starfleet finest. Being beaten gave him something to feel, and even if he felt a bit ashamed by that, he was grateful for the feelings.

Christopher Pike somehow saw through his mask and dared him to overcome the depression in other way - and for a time, it worked. Jim would run from class to class, day after day... Until he had finally moment to stop and think.

He shaved half of his hair that day, and dyed the unshaved half in radiant pink colour.

Another of his "down" days had been after his first try at Kobayashi Maru. He knew the test was unbeatable, but part of him hoped that he will be the first one to beat the odds. He was one of the many who didn't, even if he managed to last longer than anyone else before. He got in such a terrible fight that day that Leonard really feared for his life, as he sat by his side at hospital that day.

But far the worst had been that time they were sent to transport supplies to a remote colony during the first year of their five year mission on Enterprise. By the time they arrived the colonists had already been starving and only very quick assistance stopped any real casualties from happening.

That day, Jim made one of the colonists who was in relatively good shape to make him a tattoo on his left forearm. It wasn't a symbol, or some naughty picture - just series of numbers. 175113. He found that out at Jim's yearly physical, and couldn't make heads or tails out of it.

"Those are numbers of my life, Bones," said Jim, when asked about that. "When I was young, half the age I'm now, I was survivor of something..." he paused, clearly uneasy, "something terrible. I got this number instead of a name, and had to remember it. I thought I was going to die back then, no matter how much I'll try to survive."

He knew what Jim was speaking about. Tarsus IV. He read it in Jim's records, as a CMO he had to, but he let him speak without interruption.

"I sat there in a corner and cried. That was when some guy, I think he studied religions, came over and asked why so sad? I was furious at him at that moment, and wanted to hit him - when he asked me about my number. And you know what he told me once he knew?"

Bones just shook his head, and Jim continued: "He told me that he once read a cartoon about holocaust, he said it was called 'Maus', and that the main protagonist of the whole story found himself in concentration camp, and thought he will die very soon. And when he was at his lowest, there was a Christian priest who came to him, and told him not to despair, because the numbers on his forearm were lucky."

"Seventeen is lucky number in Hebrew. Thirteen - I was thirteen that year, you know, and the guy said that if I were Jew, I would be considered a man. And if you counted the numbers, you would get eighteen. Eighteen, Bones - "chai" in Hebrew." He looked his doctor friend in the eye. "That means 'life'."

I never saw that guy again, never found out his name. But he saved me that day, Bones, just like now we saved these people."

It made sense to Bones. At least it wasn't anything as self-destructive as quite a few things Jim did so far, he thought. He will just have to keep an eye on his forearm, in case the skin got infected.

And if Bones himself got a tattoo some time later, number 18 written in ornamental font, neither him, nor Jim, were inclined to explain the significance.


End file.
